


I Can See You

by Deannie



Series: Dear Love [8]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-06-28
Updated: 1997-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:46:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair finally lets go. The final story in the 'Dear Love' series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can See You

DISCLAIMER: None of these guys belong to me, but I'm sure, since I get *nothing* (but comments ) for this, that UPN and Pet Fly Productions won't mind if I borrow them for a bit, right? 

RATING: G 

NOTES: Yes, damnit! This is another Dear Love story (sigh). I promise, though, the really is the last one (I know I said that four stories ago, but I'm serious this time... really). 

THANKS: To everyone who's been so supportive about my writing. I appreciate it. 

## I Can See You

by Dean Warner  


Blair rolled over, his compact body failing to encounter a larger, more solid one. One hand sleepily drifted over to Simon's side of the bed. It was already cooling. 

It must be late. He hoped he had another couple of hours to sleep before he had to trek over to the University to proctor his exam. Simon and Daryl had said they were leaving at seven, but if the other side of the bed was already cold, it must be well, well after that now. 

Still, he didn't want to open his eyes just yet. It was Saturday, damnit. He had one more exam to give before the semester was over, and he wasn't going to squander precious sleep time worrying about how he'd manage to grade them all before the posting deadline, and still have time to spend with his new family. 

Shit, that did it. No use trying to sleep now. Oh well. He could get up, take a shower, and hopefully have at least half of one class's tests done by the time he had to be at school. 

His eyes opened slowly, and focused on the chair in the corner--and froze. 

Jim looked good. Surprisingly good. For a dead guy, that is. Blair's mind shied away from the implications of Jim's presence, and just decided to roll with it. "Hey, Jim. You're haunting the wrong house, you know?" 

Jim's ghost just sat there. He looked real, but Blair knew that if he reached out to touch him, his hand would go straight through him. This wasn't like the dreams he'd had just after Jim died, when he'd wake with the phantom pain of Jim's arms around him. In fact, this didn't seem like a dream at all. 

"This your idea of a lightning bolt?" Blair asked. Maybe that was why Jim was coming to visit--to tell him that he didn't want him living with Simon. He'd only just moved in before exam week started, and this would be the perfect time for Jim to let him know whether he approved or not. 

"Well, tough, Jim," he said quietly. "I'm here, and I'm staying." 

Jim's ghost smiled, as if it was glad to see Blair in Simon's bed. The small man relaxed, sitting back against the headboard to gaze at the wraith. 

Jim's eyes tracked to Blair's chest, and the smile turned admiring. Blair ran a hand over the rock-hard muscles self-consciously. "Six months in the Brazilian rain forest, man," he explained. "You wouldn't imagine the *tan* I had." He grinned. "Course, you knew it would have to fade, living up here in the rainfall capital of America." 

The ghost looked surprised, and Blair knew exactly what it was thinking. "Hey," he objected. "I don't have to be with Simon every second of every day, you know?" His face fell slightly. "*He* can take care of himself." 

Jim moved from the chair, but didn't go so far as to sit on the bed. Blair wondered if it was some sort of taboo to sit on your lover's new lover's bed. Jim looked sad suddenly, and Blair tried to resist the impulse to reach out to him. It wouldn't have done any good. 

"It's okay, man," he soothed. "I'm happy." 

The ghost didn't believe him. 

"I *am*. I'm just different now, Jim," He did reach out, finally, and as he suspected it would, his hand went straight through Jim's arm. But the warmth the contact left behind was thrilling. "I'm a little old to be jumping up and down with joy and clinging to his heels, don't you think?" 

He wondered suddenly how Jim saw him now. The soft brown curls shot through with steel grey, the slight wrinkles at his eyes, the rope hard muscles that had once been smooth and supple. He knew his eyes themselves had changed, too. They didn't dance anymore. Blair smiled at the thought. Okay, maybe they did, but it tended to be a slow waltz now, not the Macarena. 

"Besides," he continued softly. "Simon's mellowed me." He sat in silence for a moment, as Jim's ghost looked him over with pride. 

"You've been watching," Blair said finally. "Are you happy for us?" 

The ghost stood still for a moment, an unreadable expression on its face. Just as Blair was ready to speak again, the wraith moved closer, bending to place a gentle kiss on his lover's forehead. The live man shivered at the contact. 

"That a yes?" he asked, a little breathless. 

Jim smiled again--his secret smile. The one that told Blair he loved him. He mouthed a word-- 

"Yes" 

\--and was suddenly gone... 

Blair jumped out of the dream at the arms that encircled him briefly, and relaxed happily when he heard Simon's voice. 

"We're going, hon," Simon whispered, turning Blair's face toward his with a gentle finger at his jawline. When the larger man saw his lover's eyes, he stopped. "Blair? Are you all right?" 

Blair grinned, looking suddenly half his age. "Why? Do I look like I've seen a ghost?" 

Simon just looked at him strangely for a moment. "You sure you don't want us to wait until your exam is over today? We've got the whole week. One morning isn't going to hurt us." 

Blair shook his head, giving his lover a peck on the cheek. "It's okay, Simon. I'll catch up to you guys tonight." 

Simon shook his head doubtfully, still disturbed by the look Blair had had when he woke. It was almost... the old Blair. 

His lover stopped him with a hand on his arm as Simon made to leave, and the retired cop turned back to see *his* Blair gazing at him from the bed. 

"Do you want me to pick anything up on my way to the cabin?" 

Simon shook his head, giving Blair one last kiss for the road. "We'll see you by six?" Blair nodded, stretching as he rose from the bed into the early morning light. "You're sure you're okay, hon?" 

Blair smiled, and pushed Simon lightly toward the door. "I'm fine, Lover. Just go--you'll miss the fish." 

Simon stopped, shocked, and turned back to his bedmate. "'Lover'?" he asked, dumbfounded. 

His younger lover reached up to pull his face down to him. "Yes, Simon," he whispered as he kissed him tenderly. "'Lover'." He grinned cheekily. "Now go. Daryl is going to think we're messing around up here." 

As the big man gave him one last look, still startled by the sudden use of that forbidden nickname, Blair settled into the chair in the corner, feeling the heat of Jim's ghost still in the fabric. He lay his head back, remembering Jim's chaste kiss. A kiss that signalled that Blair's life was finally his own. 

He supposed it always had been, but his love for Jim had never seemed to let him love anyone else quite so much. In his darker moments, Blair wondered why Simon stayed with him, knowing he was still so in love with a man more than five years dead. Blair wanted to let go--for Simon... But somehow, he had always thought of this new life as something less than the old one. 

But that was different now. He'd called Simon "Lover" as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And it *was*. Simon was his lover. Jim had all but said so with that smile. 

He sank into the warmth again, a grin on his face. 

"I'm just fine."  
  


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